Houston Is Coming to Terms With Baseball

You’ve got to hand it to Drayton McLane. He sure knows how to scare the pants off those Astros fans down in Houston, doesn’t he? Five months ago, the Astros’ owner gave an ultimatum to the fourth-largest city in America: Either increase attendance by 40 percent in 1996 -- to 2.5 million for the season, or 30,086 per game -- or he’d sell the club to buyers in Northern Virginia.

All winter, the Houston business community tried to drum up season-ticket sales so the Washington area, led by William Collins with his check for $150 million, wouldn’t steal its team. On Opening Day, the Astros drew 34,375 -- a smaller crowd than in ‘93, ’94 or ’95. Their second game of the season, also against the popular Dodgers, drew 20,492.

Nevertheless, Houstonians were sure that the season’s third game -- on Wednesday night -- would be a far fairer litmus test of the Save Our Stros (SOS) movement. After all, last year’s biggest crowd -- 39,295 -- came to see rookie of the year Hideo Nomo, the Japanese right-hander with the hesitation windup.

And who pitched on Wednesday? Yes, Nomo.

Let’s open the envelope marked Fate Of The Astros, please. The answer is: 14,858.

Actually, the most prominent Houstonian in the stands was a man who spent most of his life in Washington -- former President Bush. When you depend on former chief executives as your hard-core fan base, you’re in trouble.

Houston has had its chance -- for 35 years. It’s a poor baseball town. Always has been. The franchise has drawn 2 million fans only three times and never more than 2.2 million. Decade after decade the Astros draw about 18,000 fans a night, seldom more or less.

Baseball fans in Houston are a devoted cult, like NHL fans in Washington. There are only so many of them. The time is fast approaching when the major leagues should admit the obvious. Houston doesn’t deserve a team any longer. The Washington area, after a mere 25-year wait, merits another crack.

For once, a big-league owner has a legitimate gripe. And sufficient reason to relocate his team. McLane has spent money to maintain a contending team. Two years ago, he signed free-agent pitchers Greg Swindell and Doug Drabek. Last winter, he gave Craig Biggio a new $26 million contract when plenty of owners would have slashed their payroll.

The Astros still have a gate attraction in ’94 MVP Jeff Bagwell. McLane has not been a lavish spender. The strike prompted him to make a 12-player deal with San Diego to lower salaries. But he’s spent enough, and his team is more than good enough to expect solid support.

Despite this, McLane says he’s lost more than $60 million in his three years as an owner. He can’t find fresh local partners to help him carry the load. Houston politicians, with good reason, say they aren’t going to build a $300 million baseball stadium until the fans demonstrate they love the team. As for the fans, they won’t come unless there’s a new park. So, the Astros are at a dead end.

Assuming the Astros’ attendance continues to flounder, is Northern Virginia baseball ready to pounce on its opportunity?

“The Christmas shopping season doesn’t start until the All-Star Game,” said a source with the Northern Virginia group. “By then, we’ll be ready to go.”

By July, the Collins group hopes that the Virginia legislature will have come up with a financing package for a $250 million stadium. That process just started this week. It’s got a long way to go.

By August, the Northern Virginians also hope to have a stadium site picked. That won’t be easy, either. The most obvious and feasible sites -- near Dulles Airport or just outside the Beltway in Springfield -- are no longer sufficiently trendy to please baseball. Such locations smack of that hinterland look in Kansas City, where the Royals aren’t drawing flies.

At the moment, the game adores new parks with urban backdrops. Fans love that “sense of place.” Aesthetics as fad. It’s worked in Baltimore and Cleveland. Just do it again.

Northern Virginia has such a site -- perhaps the most stunning of its kind anywhere. A 40-acre tract in Arlington, near Crystal City, where the Twin Bridges Marriott hotel once stood, would command a view of the Washington skyline full of illuminated memorials and bridges lit by ribbons of car lights. From the upper deck, it’d knock anybody’s eyes out.

For the past three months, the Virginia Baseball Stadium Authority has been pushing the Arlington site as a way to please the baseball poo-bahs. However, trying to shoehorn a park into Arlington may -- quite rightly -- cause the local residents to mount an insurrection.

For the past six months, baseball has taken the stance that it is adamantly against any franchise relocation for any reason. When Collins and McLane thought they probably had a deal last November, they discovered they didn’t have enough votes among owners to get the transaction approved. Everybody assumed baseball wanted to look noble in comparison to the NFL, the league in which you never know where any franchise will play on any given Sunday.

This week, however, events have gotten a fresh spin. White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, “Baseball at some point is going to tell (Brewers president Bud Selig), ‘If you can’t get a (new) stadium deal, the team must be moved. ... ‘ “

“He’s going to be told to move.”

It’s heartwarming, isn’t it? Jerry and Bud, the Strike Twins, are still covering each other’s backs like Butch and Sundance. Is it possible that, all along, acting commissioner Selig just wanted to keep Northern Virginia empty in case Wisconsin wouldn’t help build his park?

Here are two suggestions for Virginia to remember when dealing with baseball’s owners in the next few months. First, don’t believe a word they say; the sport has misled towns and politicians since long before the Dodgers left Brooklyn. Second, drive a hard bargain; just like baseball always has when it had the upper hand.

Baseball owners have lived in a seller’s market for 40 years. But all that has changed. It’s a buyer’s market now. When McLane or Selig or some baseball committeeman makes demands, just slap your knee and say, “That’s a good one. You’ve got a sense of humor. Now get serious.”

Tell them that, unless baseball in Northern Virginia is a good deal for the state’s taxpayers and a good deal for the county where a new park is built, then Virginia isn’t interested. Major-league baseball is an asset to a community. It has value. But not enormous value. At least not to a world capital. We’ve done without the game quite nicely for 25 years. Let it come back on fair terms or not at all.